


Read me like an open book

by LightsUpInTheNorth



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Billy is also in love and pining, Billy lives (obviously), Billy reads to Steve, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, It's not explicit though, M/M, Post Season 3, Recreational Drug Use, Steve is in love and pining, The first part in is Steve's POV and then it switches to Billy's, They smoke weed what can I say, a lot of fluff with a side of plot, like a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:40:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23895463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LightsUpInTheNorth/pseuds/LightsUpInTheNorth
Summary: “Open mine first!” Robin said as she sat down on the floor again, extending a rectangular package.Steve had to detangle himself from Billy, ignoring his mumbled complaints, before he tore into the brightly colored wrapping paper. He uncovered a thick book with a beautiful cover representing a sky full of stars. It was titled 'Long live the King'.“I know you’ve taken to reading, these days, and this novel is amazing.” Robin assured.“It’s really not that good.” Billy grumbled, with a roll of his eyes.“Oh, you read it too?” Steve asked.“Uh… yeah, I did.”Billy was staring at Robin when he said it. And he was frowning.“Don’t listen to him, Steve, he’s being a buzzkill. You’re going to love it.”“I’m sure I will. Thanks Rob.” Steve hugged her.He hoped Billy would still agree to help him with the book, even if he didn’t like it much. Ever since he knew Steve had trouble with written words, Billy would read to him all the time. It had become their thing. Steve loved his voice. Well, Steve loved everything about him, but that was off topic.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 14
Kudos: 152





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! :) Here is the first part of a two-part (I think ah ah) fic. It’s set a few years after the events of the third season (which Billy survived, obviously ^^). It starts on Steve’s birthday just because it’s my birthday today :p 
> 
> I hope you’ll enjoy ;)

“It’s presents time, bitches!” Robin said, getting up from the floor, where Steve was still sprawled with Billy half-laying on top of him. 

They might have overdone it a little on the weed. Steve didn’t really care, though. He was relaxed and happy. So far, his twenty-first birthday had been the best birthday ever. Robin and Billy had organized a surprise gathering in their shared flat, inviting the kids, Nancy and Jonathan, as well as Joyce and Hopper. After everyone had left earlier in the evening, Robin had gone to her room and had come back with a bag of weed bought by Billy and her for the occasion, and they had gotten positively baked. 

Billy and Robin had insisted to give him his present when it was just the three of them instead of doing it at the same time as the others. When Steve had seen the weed, he had understood why. So, he was confused when Robin mentioned presents. 

“What presents?” 

“Your birthday presents, dingus. I know you’re high right now, but I didn’t think you were high enough to forget your own birthday.” Robin cackled. 

“Hey, I haven’t forgotten. I just kinda thought… wasn’t the weed the present?” 

“Pfff, no.” Billy replied. “What kind of present would that be? As if we didn’t already smoke weed on the regular.” 

He made them sound like potheads. They didn’t smoke that often… Then again, it did happen more frequently than their respective birthdays. 

“Yo, Buckley, can you go to my room and fetch my present for Steve too, now that you’re at it. It’s in the drawer of my bedside table.” Billy yelled, a lot louder than was necessary considering Robin was just in the next room. 

Steve whined. Billy’s voice was reverberating in his head. 

“Sure, you lazy fuck.” She yelled back, just as loud. 

They were so noisy!

“Open mine first!” Robin said as she sat down on the floor again, extending a rectangular package. 

Steve had to detangle himself from Billy, ignoring his mumbled complaints, before he tore into the brightly colored wrapping paper. He uncovered a thick book with a beautiful cover representing a sky full of stars. It was titled 'Long live the King'. 

“I know you’ve taken to reading, these days, and this novel is amazing.” Robin assured. 

“It’s really not that good.” Billy grumbled, with a roll of his eyes. 

“Oh, you read it too?” Steve asked. 

“Uh… yeah, I did.” 

Billy was staring at Robin when he said it. And he was frowning. 

“Don’t listen to him, Steve, he’s being a buzzkill. You’re going to love it.” 

“I’m sure I will. Thanks Rob.” Steve hugged her.

He hoped Billy would still agree to help him with the book, even if he didn’t like it much. Ever since he knew Steve had trouble with written words, Billy would read to him all the time. It had become their thing. Steve loved his voice. Well, Steve loved everything about him, but that was off topic. 

“Now, here’s Hargrove gift.” 

Robin basically dropped the gift in Steve’s lap. The wrapping paper had multi-colored stars on it. Steve unraveled it carefully and found a set of pencils and a beautiful sketchbook. Billy and Robin’s gifts kind of coordinated aesthetically speaking, which was nice. Indeed, on the cover of the notebook was a drawing of the night sky, with the sea represented underneath. “My sea of stars”, was written on the front. 

Steve used to doodle distractingly during class. He’d been doing it since primary school. After he had graduated, his doodling habit had spread to his daily life. He would draw lines absentmindedly while he was on the phone or trace random shapes on discarded pieces of paper when he was watching TV but was too fidgety to focus. He hadn’t been seriously committed to drawing, though. He had only started making it into a real hobby after Starcourt. Billy had been the one to suggest it, in fact. After he’d literally come back to life, Steve and he had become good friends, and Billy had noticed his little habit and had bought him a sketch pad. Drawing helped Steve a lot. Gave him something to do when he was feeling restless, which was the case more often than not after the whole ‘Upside-Down and co’ experience. 

Steve was frustrated by his lack of technique, at first, and had almost given up on several occasions. But Billy had always been there to cheer him up and keep him going. He was certain Billy hadn’t even realized his compliments and encouragements had prevented Steve from calling it quits at least a dozen times. They spent hours together in their living room, on the couch, Steve drawing while Billy wrote in his huge notebook, with his feet on Steve’s lap. Steve was eager to spend many more hours that exact same way, drawing on the new sketchbook Billy had offered him. 

“It’s… it’s really nice, Billy. I love it. Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome, Pretty boy.”

They hugged, and Billy didn’t let him go, half-climbing on him again as they laid back down. 

“Ugh, guys, seriously, get a room.” Robin complained, which led to Steve blushing and Billy flipping her the bird. 

Steve would have attributed Billy’s behavior to the weed, but they had gotten more and more tactile since the beginning of their friendship about two years prior, so the weed didn’t have much to do with it. Except that maybe Billy would have waited for Robin to go to bed before attaching himself to Steve like a koala, if he hadn’t been high.

Either way, Steve was far from complaining: the more Billy touched him, the better. 

Before he went to bed that night, Steve took his secret sketchpad – the one in which he drew his best friend page after page (like an obsessed creep) – from under his mattress, and drew the version of Billy he had seen earlier: high Billy, with his lax body and hazy eyes.

A few minutes after putting his paper shrine back in its usual hiding spot, Steve fell asleep with a smile on his face, and the smell of Billy’s cologne on his own skin. He hoped all his birthdays to come would be similar to this one. 

*

When Steve got up the next morning, Billy and Robin were eating breakfast in the kitchen. 

He heard Billy say:

“Stop it, Robin. I can’t tell him, I just can’t.” 

It made no sense to him, since he had missed the beginning of the conversation, but his interest was piqued. 

“You can’t tell who, what?” He asked as he went to the cupboard to get his favorite cereals. No way he would eat oatmeal like Robin and Billy. What a depressing way to start the day. 

“I, uh…” Billy started. Robin interrupted him, though: 

“He can’t tell his coworker that his new haircut looks stupid.” 

“Yeah… ‘Cause it would be mean, you know.” Billy added, before putting a huge spoonful of oatmeal in his mouth. 

“Uh… well, it’s true. It wouldn’t be a very nice thing to say, Rob.” Steve agreed. 

He put his box of cereals on the table and sat down next to Robin, in front of Billy, who was looking intently at his bowl. 

“Why do you think Billy should tell the poor guy his hair looks weird?” 

If anyone said that to Steve, he’d be devastated. That was for sure. 

“So he can let his hair grow back and have it cut in a more flattering way.” Robin explained. “It would be doing him a favor, in my opinion.” 

Steve hummed. “Makes sense”, he said. He was more focused on his fruit loops, though. It wasn’t like he cared about the guy anyway. He hadn’t even met him. 

Robin hadn’t either, so Steve didn’t know why she was so pressed on Billy giving him hair advice. Whatever floats her boat, he thought. 

His roommates were weird, sometimes. Nothing could be done about it. 

*

The next weekend, Steve and Billy were both off from their respective work, and Steve really wanted to start reading the book Robin had gotten him for his birthday. 

Billy was occupied with a novel of his own next to him, and Steve didn’t want to be a burden, so he started reading on his own. After a few pages, he was already hooked, but he got tired quickly, as he always did. Frustrated, he fidgeted a bit on the couch and brought the book closer to his face, as if it would help the words stop swimming in front of his eyes. 

Billy sighed. 

“What’s up, Pretty boy?” He asked, only then looking up from his own reading.

“I just… would it be okay… would you read to me? Please.” 

Billy sighed again, a bit louder. Steve’s face fell. It wasn’t that big of a deal, but Steve always looked forward to Billy reading out loud to him. 

“Sorry… I know you don’t like this book… I’ll ask Robin to read it to me when she gets home.” 

“No! I… I’ll do it, I’ll read for you. I really don’t mind.” Billy exclaimed. 

Steve was agreeably surprised by the amount of enthusiasm Billy displayed and he smiled at him when he handed him the book, letting their hands brush. 

“Thank you!” 

Steve kissed Billy’s cheek and laid his head on his shoulder.

“Don’t mention it, Pretty boy.” 

“Sure, I’ll mention it. It means a lot, you know.” 

Billy cleared his throat. “Right… if you say so.” 

Steve could feel the heat of Billy’s blush. 

He always downplayed the nice things he did, but Steve wouldn’t have it. He would keep showing Billy he was grateful for every little (and not so little) attention. Declaring his undying love to him would be a very effective way to make Billy realize how much Steve really appreciated him, but that would also do a lot more harm than good. Steve had to focus on the big picture, here. 

Billy began to read where Steve had stopped, and if Steve didn’t already know Billy disliked the book, he wouldn’t have been able to tell at all. He put his heart into it as he always did. Not only that, but Steve felt like Billy’s voice held even more emotion than it usually did. 

Steve fell into a sort of trance. The story was told in first person, from the point of view of a magician in a fantasy land, and Steve imagined himself as the narrator. In his mind, he could see everything Billy was describing: the village, the fields, the magnificent castle surrounded by a dark forest in which creatures lurked, the King who lived in the castle and whom the enchanter was secretly in love with.

Hours passed before Billy stopped reading. Still, Steve had to refrain himself from begging for one more chapter. He couldn’t be greedy; he didn’t want Billy to tire of him. 

“Here you go, Stevie.” 

“That was great. You’re the best.” 

“It’s just reading, Pretty boy. I didn’t hang the moon.” Billy mumbled. 

Steve nearly said “You might as well have”, but said: “It’s far better than ‘just reading’”, instead. That was a close call. 

They went to the kitchen to make dinner, and Robin came home from work right before the oven beeped. 

Steve ate his meal slowly, without really tasting it, and he didn’t say much, letting Robin and Billy do most of the talking. He was still somewhere far away, in a fantasy land ruled by a beautiful king. And, if the king was a carbon copy of Billy, it was nobody’s business but Steve’s. 

*

On Thursday, Billy went to Indianapolis, and Steve went with him. Apparently, Billy had been asked by his boss to go check and fix a few collection cars over there, and Billy had invited Steve to come with him. Said it would be fun. They’d spend the morning together and Billy would go to his work appointment after lunch. 

“Not that I’m not glad to have the opportunity of going on a fun little trip or anything, but couldn’t that guy find a garage in Indianapolis to take care of his cars? There must be more than a few.” Steve asked Billy, who had just started the car. 

“That’s because I’m the best in fucking Indiana, baby.” He said with a cocky grin. 

Steve rolled his eyes but couldn’t hold back his fond smile. 

“Right. Forget I asked.” 

“To answer more seriously, I don’t really know. But who gives a fuck? The guy paid extra… I mean like, a big wad of cash. So, fine by me.” 

Billy shrugged. 

Steve found it quite weird, but it was fine by him too. It wasn’t any of his business, anyway: he was just tagging along. 

He turned the radio on, and then Billy and he bickered for ages about what station to choose. That was somewhat of a tradition every time they were in a car together. 

“I’m driving, so I choose. It’s driver’s privilege, Pretty boy. Suck it up.” 

“But that’s not fair!” Steve whined. “You insisted to drive, it’s not like I had a choice.” 

“Too bad. You lose anyway.” 

Steve crossed his arms over his chest and pouted, making Billy laugh. The cold bastard. 

When they arrived in Indianapolis, Billy parked, and they chose a direction at random to go wander. Steve got caught up in some window-shopping, stopping abruptly in the middle of the sidewalk to stare at the newest Adidas sneakers behind the glass. 

Steve used to be given everything he wanted. Well, everything he wanted that could be bought with money. Now that he didn’t speak to his parents anymore and was financially independent, however, he couldn’t afford many unnecessary expenses. These shoes sadly fell into the “unnecessary” category. 

Billy had not immediately noticed Steve had stopped walking, so he had to go back on his tracks a little. 

“Hey, Stevie, give a guy a warning, would you? I turned to talk to you and you were not there anymore.” 

“Sorry, sorry. I was just… I wanted to take a look at these.” Steve pointed at the shoes. “I don’t know why I did, anyway… it’s not like I’m gonna buy them.” 

“Right… it’s fine. Let’s go get lunch, Pretty boy.” Billy said, steering him away from the shop, but not without giving the shoes a good look himself. 

They ate burgers and fries in a greasy joint they had stumbled upon. The food was pretty good. As a testament to that, Billy kept trying to steal fries off Steve’s basket. At first, Steve batted his hand away, but he gave up after a while. When Billy gave him a wide smile after finally succeeding, Steve couldn’t even be mad at him. He’d gave up all the fries in the world if it meant seeing Billy smile like that. Steve smiled back at him. 

In the afternoon, while Billy was at work, Steve went to a coffee shop and bought a cappuccino for himself, and a giant raisin oatmeal cookie to go for Billy. He grimaced a little as he ordered the latter. Billy really had weird tastes, sometimes. 

He sat down at a table and put the cookie in his backpack, before taking out his book. He progressed slowly, really slowly, only managing to read a chapter before he had to meet Billy back at the car. Yes, Steve had trouble with reading to begin with, but the fact that this book was making him emotional was not helping him read it any faster. 

He related to the narrator a lot. He, too, was in love with someone close to him yet unreachable. He, too, had to admire them in silence. And the object of his love was as beautiful and as brave as the King was described to be. The only difference was that the King was said to have brown hair and eyes. 

What the characters were going through also reminded him of what had happened because of the Upside-Down, in some way. Life in Hawkins was (or at least had been) so strange that it looked like something out of a fantasy novel. How wild was that? Steve mused, as he was waiting for Billy near his car. 

When Billy made it to the car, he was carrying a thick brown envelope in his right hand and a paper bag in the left. 

“Want some help with all that?” Steve asked. 

“Uh… No, thank you. I’ll be fine.” Billy assured, transferring the envelope in his left hand so he was carrying everything on the same side and could fetch the car keys from his pocket with his newly free hand. He opened the trunk and dropped everything in it. 

Steve didn’t bother asking what was in the envelope, or in the bag. If Billy had wanted to share the information, he already would have. Steve definitely wondered, though. 

“I have an oatmeal raisin cookie for you, if you’d like.” He said once they were in their seats, as he rummaged through his backpack in search of it. 

“Oh yeah thanks! that sounds perfect.” 

Billy took the paper bag from Steve’s hand as he unparked the car. Steve would have scolded him for eating while driving instead of focusing solely on the road, but that would have been slightly hypocritical of him. 

“Well, that’s a relief, because no way I’d have eaten that if you didn’t want it.” Steve made a face again. 

“That’s ‘cause you have bad tastes, Pretty boy.” Billy said, taking a big bite of the cookie and putting crumbs everywhere. 

Steve laughed. If only Billy knew how much Steve loved him, he would certainly backtrack on what he had just said.

“It’s delicious, you don’t know what you’re missing.” Billy said in between bites. 

Steve was watching him with a sad smile, glad that Billy’s eyes were on the road and not on him. It took him a few seconds to reply. 

“Oh I know, believe me. I know.” 

*  
The next morning, when he woke up, Steve found the brown paper bag Billy had come back with at the foot of his bed. What the…? 

The idea of Billy sneaking into his room during the night to put it there made something tighten in his chest, but Steve was mostly preoccupied with finding out what was inside the bag. 

He basically jumped out of bed, which was very unusual of him (he was the exact opposite of a morning person), and reached for the bag. There was a box labelled Adidas in it… no way! Steve opened it with shaky hands and his jaw dropped. 

What… how… why? Steve was confused. Billy had gotten him the sneakers he’d been looking at in the shop window. How had he paid for them? Why would he spend so much money on Steve? Especially so soon after his birthday… This was far too much. 

Steve exited his room quicker than he would have if it had been on fire. 

“Billy!” Steve might have called his name slightly louder than he meant to.

Billy, who was sitting at the breakfast table with his back to Steve, jumped and put a hand over his heart. 

“Damn, Pretty boy, calm down. You nearly gave me a heart attack.” 

“What the fuck?” 

Robin darted her eyes between the two of them and announced: “I’ll leave you to it”, before retreating to her room with her bowl of disgustingly bland oatmeal. 

“What gives, Stevie?” 

“You know what, Billy. The shoes. What the fuck? Why did you buy them?” 

“Isn’t that obvious? You wanted them, and I wanted you to have them. It’s not that big a deal.” Billy was not looking at him as he spoke. 

Steve’s heart nearly melted. Because that was so fucking sweet of Billy to do what he did, and then say something like that. He couldn’t possibly accept the gift, though. 

“Not that big a deal? They’re so expensive, Billy… I can’t … I can’t just take them… it wouldn’t be right.” 

“Look, Steve… As I told you, my client from yesterday paid really well, and it’s my money, so I get to decide how to spend it, and I wanted to spend it on these shoes, for you. So please, keep them. They’re your size and not refundable, anyway. Either you keep them or they’ll just rot in the cupboard. That’s up to you.”

Steve was almost certain Billy was bullshitting him on the “not refundable” part, but he didn’t argue. It would be no use: Billy always won. 

So, he just hugged him tightly instead. Billy froze for a second, but quickly let go of the spoon he was still holding to hug Steve back. 

“Thank you so much. I don’t know what I did to deserve that.” 

“You don’t need to do anything in particular, Pretty boy. Being yourself is more than enough.” 

Steve was not a crier, but his eyes were undeniably misty. Billy couldn’t keep being so sweet and expect Steve to reign his feelings in. They were on the verge of overflowing already. 

After finally letting go of Billy (not before leaving a kiss on top of his head, though), Steve put the sneakers on. 

“Steve, seriously… you’re still wearing your pajamas.” 

Steve’s pajamas consisted in frayed basketball shorts and a old Hawkins High t-shirt, so it was fine to wear the sneakers with them in Steve’s book. And he wouldn’t take these off until he absolutely had to. 

“So what?” Steve asked. 

Billy rolled his eyes, but his ears were red. 

*

About a week later, Steve’s nightmares paid him a visit. They had left him alone for a while, but Steve knew they’d be back eventually. He saw Billy die again, which was simultaneously his worst and most common nightmare. 

“Hey, Steve. Stevie. Wake up, please.” 

He was shaken awake.

Thankfully, Billy was the one to wake him up from his dream, so Steve instantly knew he was alive and well. Steve threw his arms around him, buried his face in his neck, and inhaled his scent to calm himself down. 

Billy held him close and rubbed his back, whispering reassuring words in his ear: 

“You’re okay, Pretty boy. You’re fine. It was just a dream.” 

Yes, Steve was alright. But the most important thing was that Billy was. That had been the object of Steve’s concern. 

“I’m sorry… did I wake you?”

Billy sighed. 

“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t mind, Steve?” 

“As many times as I have to tell you the same thing.”

Billy’s room was right next to Steve’s. It wasn’t the first time he woke Billy up with his nightmare-induced screams. And Billy’s night terrors had woken Steve up a few times too. 

“Touché.” Billy said. “Do you think you’ll be able to go back to sleep?” He added after a pause. 

“I don’t know… Could you read to me again?” 

“Sure, if it helps.” Billy agreed. 

Steve snatched the book from his bedside table and handed it to Billy, who opened it where the bookmark indicated Steve had stopped. 

“You read all this by yourself?” There was awe in Billy’s voice. 

Steve was blushing, but in the low light of his bedside lamp, it was probably not very noticeable. At least, he could always hope. 

“Yeah… uh… I was really into it.” 

He had read about seven chapters on his own, which, added to the ones Billy had read to him the other day, only left three before they reached the end. 

“Steve, you did really good!” 

Steve blushed even harder. His face was burning at that point. Billy sounded so proud of him. 

“It’s not like it’s a great achievement, or anything… but yeah, I guess it’s progress.” 

“Hey, of course it’s progress. It’s a lot, Steve. Don’t diminish your accomplishments.” Billy said in a firm tone.

“Okay, okay. I won’t.” 

“Good.” Billy sprawled on the bed and leaned against the headboard. He then tugged on Steve’s arm. “Now settle down.” 

Steve did as he was told and settled right next to him, resting his head on Billy’s chest and putting an arm over his waist. Steve loved the feeling of Billy’s naked skin against his. When they had first moved in together, Billy wore long-sleeved t-shirts almost constantly, self-conscious as his scars made him. Now, he slept in nothing but shorts. Steve wasn’t the only one who had been making progress.

Billy was barely three sentences into the third to last chapter when his voice broke. He cleared his throat and resumed the reading as if nothing had happened. His voice was now breathy, though. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Yes.”

“You sure? We can stop.” 

“I’m sure, Pretty boy. Now shut up and let me read.” 

Steve effectively shut up and Billy got back to the task at hand. 

In the last three chapters, the King lost his kingdom, the magician finally confessed their love and found out it was in fact reciprocated. Then, the narrator described their first kiss with the King, a kiss that made Steve’s chest constrict with longing. The fact that it was Billy’s voice describing it only made the longing ten time worse. 

As Billy read the last words: “He was not ruling the kingdom anymore, but to me he would always be king. My king, my light, my love, my everything”, Steve was on the verge of tears. 

He regularly went through terrifying nightmares and found himself unable to spill a single tear, but this book might do the trick. And okay, it might have been a bit mushy, but Steve was really digging it, alright? 

He opened his eyes and saw a tear stain on the last page. For a second, he thought he had already started crying without noticing, but his cheeks were dry. It then occurred to him that the tear had come from Billy. 

Steve put the book away from him and had to straddle him so they could be face to face. He then wiped Billy’s tears, but they kept coming. 

“What’s the matter, Billy?” 

Unlike Steve, Billy was a crier. Steve had seen him cry a bunch of times, when he’d been particularly tired, or sad, or frustrated. However, there was something he was not getting: why had Billy pretended he didn’t like the book in the first place? It had to be the book. What other reason did Billy have to cry right now?

“I… I’m sorry.” Billy just said before he started properly bawling and hid his face in his hands. 

Steve was even more confused… and slightly panicked. 

“Hey… hey… please, tell me what’s wrong. I… I don’t know what to do.”

Steve circled Billy’s wrists to ground him, but he didn’t try to pull his hands away from his face for fear it might make him retreat further into himself. 

“I just… this book hits me really hard.” His voice was muffled, but Steve could still make out the words. 

“But… you said it wasn’t very good.”

Billy lowered his hands. His eyes were red and puffy. 

“I meant it… It still makes me sad, though.” 

Steve frowned. He didn’t think a book could elicit such reaction in someone who didn’t like it all that much. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

Steve wouldn’t have judged Billy, he would have understood. He never wanted Billy to feel so bad, and even less if it happened because of something Steve had asked of him. 

“I should have… I should have said something. I’m sorry.” Billy’s breathing was uneven, and Steve could see his tears threatening to come back. 

“Hey, no. Don’t be sorry. You don’t have to apologize. Just tell me next time, okay?”

Billy nodded and Steve smiled at him tentatively. 

“Let’s go to bed.” 

“Yeah, sounds good.” Billy mumbled. 

Steve turned the lights off before moving from Billy’s lap to lay down. As Billy snuggled up with him, Steve couldn’t help but think about his recent behavior. Billy was acting a tad strange these days. He had gotten a lot better at expressing his feelings verbally in the last couple of years, and Steve was positive that the Billy he knew would have told him the book would upset him instead of pretending he would be fine. 

Steve would have to talk to him when he was more clear-headed. The last thing he wanted was for Billy to close himself off again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading :D
> 
> I'd love to hear your thoughts if you feel like sharing them :)
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr at https://lightsupinthenorth.tumblr.com/
> 
> Have a nice day/night <3


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Thanks a lot for the kudos and the comments. It means the world to me <3 
> 
> I hope you will enjoy the second (and last) part :)

“Are you a drug dealer?” Steve asked him out of the blue, one day, as they were eating dinner. 

Billy nearly choked on his lasagna and had to down half his glass of water to recover from it. 

“Of course not! Where the fuck did that come from?” He asked, once he was done coughing. 

Robin was laughing freely, either at Billy or at Steve (or at both). 

“Well, I don’t know… The other day you told me you were working, and I went to the garage because I had some trouble with my car, but you weren’t there. And you keep going to Indianapolis, and you always come back with these big ass envelopes. And you keep buying us nice stuff… and okay, you always have an explanation for how you got the extra cash, but it’s… it’s weird, is all.” Steve summarized. 

Okay, so Steve might have been more observant than most people gave him credit for. Thank God he hadn’t asked for him at the garage. Billy had asked Charlie, one of his old coworkers, to cover for him if Steve ever came by, but what if Charlie had not been there? 

Robin was now staring at Billy, her eyes shining with mirth. It was so not funny! Billy was in deep shit. 

“And the only explanation you can come up with is me being a drug dealer?” Billy asked to delay the answers he would have to give (and which he had yet to invent). 

“Well… yes.” Steve admitted, with a frown. 

Maybe Billy would have laughed too, if he hadn’t been in such a precarious position. 

“Uh… I… Yeah, it’s just that the rich client from Indianapolis keeps asking me to come check his cars… that’s probably where I was when you went to the garage. And he always puts the money in envelopes. The guy’s weird, what can I say? He pays really well, hence the nice stuff I buy, so it’s not like I’m going to complain.” Billy explained, before stuffing his face with lasagna, just so the chewing would give him some time to think if Steve called him out on his bullshit. 

Robin rolled her eyes but kept mercifully silent. 

“Oh… alright. Sorry. That was dumb.” Steve said, pushing his food around his plate with his fork. 

“That’s fine... I can see how I might have looked suspicious. I’m not a fucking drug dealer, though.” Billy grumbled once his mouth was empty. 

“It did seem a bit far-fetched.” 

If only Steve knew what Billy was really doing, the drug-dealing theory would probably not appear far-fetched anymore. Billy felt more and more guilty about lying to Steve, but he couldn’t tell him the truth. Steve would instantly know Billy was in love with him, if he did, and it would ruin everything. So, Billy kept ignoring the dilemma, hoping it would go away on its own. No such luck, so far. 

*

A few days later, Billy came home with a book he thought Steve would like. He found him on the couch, drawing on a sketchpad Billy had never seen. Before he could catch a glimpse of the drawing Steve had been working on, Steve noticed him and snapped the sketchpad shut so hard that the noise echoed in the room. 

“Hey, Billy, how are you doing?” Steve asked in a high-pitched voice. 

Billy narrowed his eyes but chose not to question Steve on his suspicious behavior. He didn’t really have a right to, considering how he had been behaving himself. 

“Good. I brought you a book, we can read a bit if you’re done with whatever you were doing.” 

“Oh… yeah. That’d be cool. I… I am totally done with… with whatever I was doing.” Steve stammered. 

“Cool.” 

“Come here.” Steve said, patting his own lap. 

Billy got the message and laid on the couch with his head on Steve’s lap. Steve started playing with his hair before he even started reading. His gentle touches made it hard for Billy to focus on the words, and he ended up tripping over them. 

Steve didn’t stop touching him, nor did he react in any way to Billy’s stumbling. It made Billy suspicious, so he started saying something that had nothing to do with the book, using the same tone he’d use if he were still reading. Steve didn’t catch on. 

“You’re not listening to a word I’m saying, are you?” Billy asked in a conversational tone, so Steve would actually register he was being addressed. 

He gave Billy his famous ‘deer caught in the headlight’ look. 

“I… uh… I… wasn’t. I’m sorry. I just can’t get my mind off ‘Long live the King’. I don’t think I can focus on another novel right now.” 

Billy sighed. He didn’t understand why Steve had loved the book so much. “It’s fine. Do you want to watch a movie or something?” 

Steve shrugged. “I probably won’t be able to focus much on that either but knock yourself out.” 

Billy would have gladly stayed there in peaceful silence while Steve was caressing his hair, but it would probably look dubious, so he reached out for the tv remote and put something at random before going back to his initial position. 

Billy felt so safe and relaxed that he started dozing off. He tried to resist, so he could enjoy Steve’s hands on him for as long as he could, but he ended up falling asleep anyway, betrayed by his own body. 

*

That night, Billy woke up from a wet dream and found the star of the said wet dream in the living-room. What was Steve doing there at this late (or early, depending on how you were looking at it) hour? It had yet to be determined. Billy approached slowly, his bare feet not making a sound on the carpeted floor. 

When he was a few meters behind the couch Steve was sitting on, Billy saw that Steve was finishing up a drawing… of a woman… a woman who looked like Billy’s mother. He gasped, before he could even think about staying discreet. 

Steve jumped and whipped his head in Billy’s direction. 

Billy instantly felt bad. Steve was often jittery, especially if he hadn’t gotten a good night of sleep (which he obviously hadn’t), and Billy should have known better than to sneak up on him. 

“I’m sorry for startling you, Pretty boy.” 

“Uh… it’s fine… I guess it’s too late to hide this from you.” He said, gesturing to the drawing before he got up from the couch to face Billy. 

“’m afraid so.” Billy replied. “Is that…?”

“Your mom? Yes…” Steve’s voice was slightly shaky. 

“But how?” Billy had no picture of his mother, and Steve had obviously never met her. 

“I… Please don’t be mad… You know how you told me about almost forgetting how your mother looked like before Eleven showed her to you when she got into your mind at Starcourt?” 

Billy nodded. He wanted to tell Steve he could probably never be mad at him, but he didn’t want to interrupt him for fear Steve would let his nerves get the better of him if he did. 

“Well… I asked Eleven to show her to me, too. I… I wanted to do something nice for you, because you keep doing nice things for me… and I thought it was a good idea… after you told me you had nothing to remember your mom by… But then I got nervous… I thought that maybe you’d find it creepy that I saw one of your memories… so I didn’t actually know how to go about telling you.” Steve was speaking faster and faster until he finally stopped, leaving Billy’s head spinning. 

Steve had asked Eleven to go into his mind just so he could draw Billy’s mother…

“Please, Billy, say something.” Steve sounded properly panicked. 

Billy wanted to reassure him, but he still couldn’t find his voice, so he lunged himself at Steve. 

“Oh…” Steve’s air was punched out of him. “Hey there, big guy.” He hugged Billy back with one arm, still holding the drawing in his right hand. 

“Thank you” Billy whispered, as a few tears made their way down his cheeks. 

“It was my pleasure.” Steve replied. 

Billy separated from Steve and wiped his tears away with the back of his hand before he reached for the drawing. 

“So that’s what you hid from me when I caught you drawing earlier?” That was more of a rhetorical question, really. 

“Oh… uh. Yeah. Yup. Totally.” Steve answered. 

He was looking at everything in the room but Billy, who was too engrossed in the drawing to question Steve’s peculiar attitude. 

The next morning, Billy bought a frame for the portrait and placed it on his nightstand. 

*

When Billy went to Indianapolis a few days later, he tried very hard to avoid his agent. He knew he should have asked for his mail to be forwarded to him in Hawkins instead of leaving it at the agency, but he had wanted to avoid Steve stumbling upon anything that would clue him to what was going on. Now Billy was reduced to lurking down the corridors with his precious envelope in hand, like a thief. He was blessedly out the door without having crossed paths with anyone he knew when he bumped into his agent a few meters down the street. Fuck his life. 

Billy’s agent had been pestering him about agreeing to a book signing for weeks now. Billy liked her well enough, but she could really be a pain in the ass when she tried hard enough. He had always denied her request, not wanting to show his face to his readers, since Robin was the only person from his life who knew he had published a book. Also, everyone thought he was a woman because of the penname he had chosen. He had an inkling that some people wouldn’t react well to knowing a book written in the first person, in which the narrator was in love with a man, had in fact been written by a male novelist. The narrator was not gendered, which Billy had done on purpose. He was almost certain most readers had imagined a girl, but if they discovered the author was a man, they might question it. Billy didn’t really care about that, or at least he didn’t care nearly as much as he did about Steve potentially finding out Billy had written ‘Long live the King’, but it was a reason he had used with his agent to justify his many rebuttals. 

“Trying to run away from me, are you?” 

“Absolutely not.” Billy replied, with more confidence than he truly had. 

“Right. So, what about that book signing?” She asked for the umpteenth time. 

She was like a broken record. 

“Like the last ten times you asked: no.” 

Billy’s tone was firm, but it didn’t deter her. Oh no. 

“But come on, your readers would be so happy to meet you. Don’t you think it’d be nice?” 

Billy had received and kept receiving heartfelt letters from some of his readers, which made him realize his book had touched a lot of people. Of course, meeting these people would be nice, but it did not change his stance on the signing. It could not. 

“Plus, you don’t have to really show yourself. Wear a cap and sunglasses, a wig, come in full drag for all I care. It doesn’t matter as long as you talk to the readers.” 

“Wouldn’t that be… you know… weird?” 

Who came disguised to their own event? 

“Sure, but you’re an author Billy, you’re entitled to being at least a bit weird.” She assured him. 

Maybe she was right… 

“Okay…” He finally agreed. 

“Okay, you’ll do the signing?” She asked for confirmation. 

“Yes, I’ll do it.” 

Billy regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth, but there was nothing he could do about it now. They were out, and his agent would never let him take them back. At least she wouldn’t pester him about it anymore. He wouldn’t relax too much, though. He knew her, by now. She’d find something else to annoy him with sooner or later. 

He waited until he was back home to open the envelope containing the letters from his readers. He was eager to read them, as he always was. And he could really use some cheering up these days, what with his longing for Steve and the fact he kept lying to him and could barely deal with the guilt. That was why Billy had gone to Indianapolis despite wanting to avoid his agent. He had really wanted, almost needed, the letters. 

He read them sitting on his bed, and when he found a drawing of the King that looked exactly like himself, Billy cursed loudly, in shock. 

A knock came on his bedroom door a few seconds later. 

“Billy?” 

“Uh… yeah?” 

Panicking, he hid the pile of letters under his bed sheet and didn’t have time to find something inconspicuous to do before Steve opened his door. 

“You sounded… bothered, just now. Are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah. Never better.” 

Never better? Why in the world had he said that? Had his brain gone to mush? 

“Okay… that’s… good. What are you doing?” 

“Uh… Nothing. Just chilling.” 

This was a train wreck. 

“Mmh… if you say so.” Steve narrowed his eyes. “See you later, then. When you’re done… chilling.” 

“Right, see you, Pretty boy.” Billy forced a smile. 

When Steve was gone, Billy unraveled the pile of letters again and took the drawing back in hand. He turned the sheet of paper and found a written paragraph on the back. 

“I wanted to thank you for writing ‘Long live the King’. I loved it a lot, and I really related to your narrator. I have feelings for someone… someone quite like the King in your story. Sadly, I don’t think I’ll have a happy ending like your narrator did, but at least your novel showed me how it could feel if I did. I’m not very good with words (sorry about the handwriting too), so I made a drawing to better express how I feel about your amazing work.

Thank you again, 

S. H.”

Steve had drawn Billy as the King, crown included, and had sent it to the author of ‘Long live the King’ without knowing it was Billy. He felt delighted, freaked out and guilty all at once. He needed a minute, or an hour. Oh Lord, this was such a mess. He should have listened to Robin and told Steve the truth a long time ago. 

And he couldn’t believe Steve was seeing him that way. He imagined Billy as the King! How was that possible? Steve was the King all along in Billy’s mind. Billy was nothing like that. He wasn’t brave and kind like Steve, and by extension the King in his novel, was. 

Billy stared at the drawing, in a daze. He appeared so beautiful on the paper… 

Steve had some better version of him that lived in his mind, and he thought this version was the real Billy. But Billy was a coward. He was lying to Steve because he was too weak to tell the truth, to face Steve, too afraid he would lose him. 

Instead of putting the drawing back in the pile of letters he had received, Billy carefully folded it and put in the pocket of his hoodie to carry it around with him, in a streak of masochism or a bout of sentimentalism (or a mix of both). 

That evening, when Steve had left the living-room for a bathroom break, Robin whispered: 

“You went to Indianapolis today, right?” 

“Yeah…” 

“You got the drawing?” 

“You knew?!” Billy whispered-yelled. 

“Of course, I was the one to suggest he sent it when I saw it.” 

“Right. I should have known.” Billy rolled his eyes. 

“Sure, thank me later, whatever. My question is, why aren’t you two making out like crazy right now? You’re head over heels for Steve, and now you know that he’s head over heels for you too. So, why haven’t you done anything about it?” Robin asked with a frown. 

“I just… you’ve seen the drawing, Robin. Steve sees me as far better than I actually am… and if I tell him I wrote ‘Long live the King’ and lied to him all this time, he’ll realize his mistake, and I will lose him.” 

“Oh, Billy.” Robin gave him a pitying look. “I don’t know how to make you see how wrong you are.” 

Billy shushed her, as Steve came back into the room. Robin sighed but didn’t say anything else and Billy relaxed a little. 

He would keep on ignoring the problem and lying to Steve despite the guilt crushing him. At least, Steve was still his friend. As long as he had him by his side, Billy could deal with the rest. 

*

About a month later, on Friday night, Steve insisted that Robin and Billy go with him to a stupid party. 

“Come on, I promised Dustin we’d go with him and the others!” Steve pleaded. 

“But why in the world did you do that, Pretty boy?” Billy asked, not looking away from the tv screen, even though he wasn’t paying attention to what was happening on it. 

He had a few ideas on how to spend his Friday night, and going to a high school party was not one of them. Plus, he had to go to his book signing tomorrow. He couldn’t use that as an excuse to decline, though, for obvious reasons.

“He wants to impress the new girl, the one hosting the party, so he said he’d bring his cool older friends. I couldn’t say no!” Steve explained. 

“Pff, the kid is delusional.” Robin replied, “I’m obviously the only cool person out of the three of us.” 

“You used to be a band geek.” Steve pointed out. 

“Yet, I’m still cooler than you, dingus, I wonder what that says about you.” 

Billy rolled his eyes. He wouldn’t even argue about that. 

“Whatever you say. Does that mean you’ll come? Apparently, the girl has an older sister who’ll also be at the party with a bunch of her own friends, so it won’t even be that weird if we go. It might be fun.” 

“Sure.” Robin shrugged, flipping the pages of a magazine. 

“Billy?” Steve asked, turning to him with a hopeful smile. “If you come, you can keep an eye on Max.”

Steve had a point. But Billy would have agreed anyway, just because Steve had been the one asking. 

“Okay, okay. But you’ll owe me.” 

“Sure, whatever you want.” Steve beamed. And really, he shouldn’t go around saying things like that. 

Billy had to close his eyes for a second. 

At the party, Billy mostly kept to the couch, sipping on a cup of punch. He’d have made conversation with Robin, who was also on the couch, but she was having a conversation of her own with one of the older sisters’ cute friends. Billy didn’t want to cockblock her, or so to speak, so he stayed in his corner like a loser. Parties weren’t really his scene anymore. It wasn’t as fun now that he barely drank. 

Steve had been dragged God knew where by Dustin, and Billy felt lonely. He regretted whishing Steve would be back when he did actually come back, though. Indeed, Steve only came to Billy to ask him to play truth or dare so he wouldn’t have to do it alone. 

“Absolutely not, Steve. What are we? Children?” 

“Come on, please… I’ll owe you a second favor. Pretty please.” Steve joined his hands together and gave Billy his infamous puppy dog eyes. This was so not fair. 

“Ugh, I hate you.” Billy lied. 

“Thank you!!” 

Billy wished he could be impervious to Steve’s pleading, as Robin was. Steve hadn’t even tried to drag her into the dumb game, already knowing that was a lost battle. She was so lucky. 

Billy followed Steve but didn’t pretend he was happy about it. 

“Wow, Billy, nice of you to grace us with your sunny disposition.” Max said as Billy sat down next to Steve with a scowl on his face. 

“Shut up, shitbird. And no funny business.” He warned. 

“What are you insinuating?” Max gasped, faking offense like the drama-queen she was. “I would never!” 

“Shut up you guys, let’s start the game.” Henderson said. And okay, rude much? He would have never disrespected Billy that way when he was still afraid of him. At least not to his face. Good old times.

There had already been about ten teenagers sitting in the circle before Billy and Steve had joined. The nerd squad minus Will and Mike was here, as well as the hostess of the party and a few other people Billy didn’t recognize and didn’t care to. He wanted to ask Steve why they were the only grown-ups (or well, semi grown-ups at least) in the circle, but he was pretty sure he knew the reason already. Henderson had most certainly roped Steve into playing as some kind of wingman duty or some shit (Billy would have bet his life on it). So, Steve was here because he couldn’t say no to the nerds (especially Henderson), and Billy was here because he couldn’t say no to Steve, which was rather unfortunate in situations like this one. 

The bottle mercifully didn’t fall on Billy for the first six spins. When it did, he picked dare and was asked to do a handstand by El, bless her pure soul. The others grumbled slightly, finding the dare boring, but no one protested too hard. She was very cute but could also be quite scary, and most people knew not to cross her. Thankfully, Billy’s shirt was tucked in so it didn’t slide down and reveal his scars. He was comfortable enough to display them around Steve and Robin, but it stopped there. 

Billy thought he would be safe for a while after that. However, his evil sister wouldn’t have it that way. As Sinclair spun and the bottle fell on Steve, who picked dare, Max whispered something in her boyfriend’s ear. Sinclair tried to protest, but Max glared at him and his protests instantly died. He then sheepishly dared Steve to kiss Billy. He had said “no funny business”. What was wrong with Max? 

Steve, blushing beet red, turned to Billy. 

“Is it… is this okay?” 

Billy should say no, because kissing Steve would just make everything messier, which was saying something, and also because he didn’t imagine his first kiss with Steve happening in front of a group of teenagers, among which was his very own sister. Then again, he had thought his first kiss with Steve would stay in his imagination, so maybe it wasn’t so bad. 

Who was he kidding? There was no way he was saying no, despite his better judgement. He wanted Steve too much for that. 

“Sure.” He therefore said, with a nonchalance he didn’t possess. 

Steve put both his hands in Billy’s hair and gently slotted their lips. He could have just pecked Billy’s lips awkwardly and called it a day, but no. Steve had to try to kill him with softness. Billy had to use all his restraint and then some so he wouldn’t deepen the kiss and ravish Steve’s mouth, lest he scar their audience for life. When Steve broke the kiss and let go of Billy’s head, they were both breathing a tad raggedly. They stared at each other, and Billy nearly lost himself in Steve’s big dark eyes, but he was brought back to earth by Henderson clearing his throat. 

Billy really wanted to shoot him a threatening look, but Max did it for him. It made Billy a little bit less mad at her. 

The game ended soon after that. Thank God. And Billy and Steve decided to go home. They looked for Robin. When they found her, she didn’t seem too keen on leaving. 

“You can stay the night. I’m staying too. There’s plenty of room.” The girl she’d been talking with for hours said. 

“That sounds great! You’ll be fine to go home on your own, boys?” 

Robin was only teasing, but Billy considered answering no for a second. Being alone with Steve right now would be pure torture. Billy would combust with longing. 

“Of course, see you tomorrow. Have fun.” Steve said.

“Thanks.” 

*

Steve was their designated driver for the night, which was stupid because Billy had barely drunk anything, and now he didn’t have anything to do with his hands and the awkwardness was killing him. They hadn’t even argued over what station to put on the radio. The radio was turned off, for God’s sake. They were not in their right mind. 

Billy ended up turning the radio on about halfway through the drive, just to have something to do. Abba was on, and Billy didn’t even switch stations. What was happening to him? 

They stayed silent until they reached the flat, where they bid each other good night before retreating to their respective rooms. 

Billy sighed with relief (and maybe with disappointment, too, if he was entirely honest). However, he shouldn’t have believed he was already out of the woods: the door of his room flew open a few seconds later, revealing Steve (of course, who else could it have been?). 

Billy opened his mouth to ask him what was wrong, but he couldn’t get a word out before Steve’s lips were on his once again. 

This time, Billy didn’t even think about resisting. He didn’t think, period. His brain was broken. Steve had broken it. His mouth still worked fine, though, and Billy kissed back eagerly. 

They didn’t even take the time to get undressed before they tumbled onto Billy’s bed, momentarily breaking the kiss. Billy grinded his hips against Steve’s, making him moan and arch his back. Steve’s hands were back in his hair, lightly tugging on it. Steve reversed their position so he was on top and joined their lips again. He pulled harder on Billy’s hair, pulling a whine out of him in the process, and proceeded to devour his mouth. 

Fuck, he really could kiss. 

Billy didn’t last long the first time around (not that he had hoped he would). In fact, he came in his pants from the friction on his clothed hard-on, as if he were still a teenager. The thing was, Billy didn’t have much experience when it came to sex, contrary to what most people thought. He had given and received the odd hand job or blow job, but between Neil walking in on Billy and his first (and only) boyfriend, the move to Hawkins, the whole possession thing, the long recovery and falling in love with Steve, he hadn’t had many occasions to have sex. And he had wanted Steve for so long that something like this was bound to happen. It wasn’t Billy’s proudest moment, nonetheless, but he powered through the embarrassment and was quick to bring Steve to orgasm too, which reassured him a little. 

Once the rush of desperation had passed, they slowed down considerably. Then, they were all soft touches, gentle hands and deep kisses. They fell asleep hours later, before dawn, sweaty and sated. 

Billy had never felt so right. However, such blissful peace could not last.

*  
When he woke up the following morning, Billy went through an emotional rollercoaster. First, he noticed that Steve wasn’t in bed with him anymore. Then, he found a post-it not on which Steve informed him he had left to get them breakfast. Billy smiled and instantly relaxed. It was only the first loop of the rollercoaster, though. 

Indeed, when Billy looked for his clothes to get dressed, he couldn’t find his favorite hoodie. Steve must have borrowed it. After all, he loved nicking clothes from Billy. 

Billy really didn’t mind. Seeing Steve in his clothes always warmed his heart. 

But then, Billy remembered he had been wearing the said hoodie when he had received Steve’s drawing, and he also remembered putting the folded drawing in the front pocket. Oh Lord, no. He frantically searched for the pile of letters from the other day in his nightstand drawer, and Steve’s drawing was indeed not in the pile. 

Billy all but ran out of his room. Maybe, if he found Steve quickly enough, he could prevent him from noticing the piece of paper. 

He immediately knew it was too late when he stumbled in the living room. Steve was in one of the chairs, sitting ramrod straight with his arms crossed over his chest. On the coffee table in front of him, there were two paper cups, a bag of pastries from their favorite bakery, and, more importantly, the drawing.

Billy’s heartbeat went haywire. How was he going to make things right, now? He had been too much of a coward to talk to Steve, and now Steve had found out without him. It was a catastrophe. 

Steve’s face showed no emotion, but his eyes were full of hurt. 

“Steve…” Billy started before being immediately interrupted. 

“How could you Billy? You knew how I felt all this time and you didn’t say anything. Don’t you care about me at all? Was last night just bullshit to you? And why the fuck did you sleep with me? Was it a pity fuck? Or did you think that I’d be an easy lay because I’m in love with you? What the fuck? I can’t believe you’d do something like that.” 

Steve was asking him question after question but didn’t leave him an occasion to answer any of them. His voice was getting louder and louder, making Billy flinch. He wanted to cut in and explain himself, but his own voice failed him.

At the world bullshit, Billy winced, but still kept silent. When Steve said he was in love with him, Billy’s heart shattered. He had yearned to hear those words for years, but not like that. Never like that. He felt like crying, but for once the tears would not come. 

Steve had gone from thinking too much of Billy to thinking too little. Billy had been hiding the truth from Steve, yes, but he would have never slept with him knowing how he felt if he didn’t love him too. Steve should know that. Billy would never be that cruel, and even less to him. How could Steve think even for a second that last night had only been about sex to Billy? Billy knew he lacked confidence ever since Nancy had broken his heart in high school, but surely he had to have felt the love their night had been filled with. 

Steve, faced with Billy’s silence, got up to leave. Billy held him by the wrist and finally found his voice. 

“Please, Steve, let me explain… I…”

“Save it.” Steve snapped, shaking Billy off before walking out the door and slamming it shut. 

Billy had to sit on the floor, as his legs were on the verge of giving out. He had ruined everything. 

He stared into nothing, his head filled with regrets and fears concerning what was to come. Had he lost Steve forever. Oh God. He had, hadn’t he? 

The tears he needed to shed didn’t start flowing until Robin came home. She found him on the floor, sitting with his knees to his chest. As soon as she asked him if he was okay with concern etched upon her face, Billy started crying hard. 

“Oh Billy, what is it? Where’s Steve?” 

Billy tried to reply but he couldn’t speak through his sobs. 

“Nothing happened to him, has it?” Robin asked. 

“He… he… he hates me.” Billy managed to say in between heaving breaths. 

“Billy, come on, he could never hate you.” 

“He… he knows… I had the drawing...” 

“So, he’s mad… but he doesn’t hate you. He’ll come around.” 

Billy drowned in another wave of tears. Robin wouldn’t think that if she knew Steve and he had made love last night. Steve would never forgive him. 

“I… I can go talk to him, if you want. Would that help?” 

Billy nodded hesitantly. Maybe it would just make Robin hate him too, but she was probably his last chance to get Steve to hear him out, so he should give it a try. 

“Are you going to be okay to go to Indianapolis on your own?” 

Billy nodded again, rubbing his eyes with his fists. He wasn’t in a fit state to go to a book signing (in fact, he wasn’t in a fit state to do anything), but at least having something to do might take his mind off of his monumental fuck-up. He didn’t have much of a choice, anyway. 

*

The book signing went as well as could be expected. Some people looked surprised to see a man, and some looked quite uncomfortable, but no one said anything outwardly rude to him, probably because Billy was a scary motherfucker without even having to try. He was intense, what could he do? 

He tried to focus on the people he got to meet, and on what they were saying, but his mind couldn’t help but drift to Steve every couple of minutes. It was exhausting. 

The event ended hours after it had been supposed to, which wasn’t surprising. It was always hard to estimate how long this kind of things lasted, considering the number of people participating could not be known beforehand. And Billy couldn’t possibly quit before everyone in the line had seen him. Some people had been waiting for several hours. He was not that much of a bastard. 

As Billy was finally getting ready to leave, someone barged into the bookstore. When he heard the bell above the door jingle, Billy looked up and froze. It was Steve. 

Had he come all this way to tell Billy he never wanted to see him again and that he should find another place to live? Wouldn’t he have waited for Billy to get back to the flat to let him know? 

As Steve got closer, Billy noticed he was carrying a book. Was it… his book? 

He stopped right in front of the table Billy was sitting at and placed the book on it. 

“Hey” 

“Hey…” Billy greeted him back tentatively. 

Steve looked sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“I… Could you sign it for me, please?” 

“Really?” Billy asked. 

He tried not to let his heart fill with hope, in case it was some kind of sick prank, but there was nothing to be done. The hope latched on too quickly to be stopped. 

Steve nodded. 

“I… I’m sorry for getting so mad this morning… Robin knocked some sense into me, and I realize I shouldn’t have yelled at you. And I should have listened to you… No matter how hurt I felt.”

Steve was apologizing? To Billy? That didn’t sound right. 

“I… I should be the one apologizing, Steve. I should have told you the truth as soon as I got the drawing… I should have told you before that even… I just…”

“It’s okay… you don’t have to explain now. We can talk things through once we’re back home… we have time… Just, just tell me one thing.” 

“Anything you want, Steve.” Billy assured him. 

“Well… at first, I didn’t even think about what you having my drawing meant… beside the fact that you know how I feel now… Then it finally registered that it meant you were the author of ‘Long live the King’… and Robin suggested that the book made it clear that you… that you had romantic feelings, for me. Was she… maybe… possibly… right? Is it true?” Steve asked, his voice so low that Billy had to strain to hear him. 

Billy signed the book and handed it back to Steve before saying anything. 

Steve opened the book to read what Billy had just written: “For my king, my light, my love, my everything”.

“Yes, it is. It is true. I love you, Steve.” Billy finally replied. 

Steve beamed, making Billy’s heart flip.

“I love you too.” 

Billy could fully rejoice in hearing these words, this time around. 

He still had some explaining to do. But he hadn’t lost Steve. Steve still loved him. And he now knew Billy loved him too. The rest could wait. 

“Let’s go home, Pretty boy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> I think T's fine for the rating considering the sex is not explicit, but let me know if you think I should rate it as M.
> 
> Shout out to Sparkly_Chaotic_Neutral_Aesthetic who guessed Billy was the author of 'Long live the King' (I would really like to put this title in italics, by the way, but I can't find the italics on this damn website lmao, I am so lame). 
> 
> Hugs and kisses ;)


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